


Accidental Peeping

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Artist Stiles Stilinski, Businessman Derek, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Neighbors, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8774233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Stiles loves his apartment. It has a delightful view. Even if it does end up making things a little awkward with one of his neighbors.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> This was written for [Inell](http://inell.tumblr.com/) who pretty much gave me free reign. Thank you! <3
> 
> Betaed by my homie [Isaac](http://demisexualhale.tumblr.com/). Thanks dude!

Stiles loved his new apartment. It was small, but it was his alone, no roommates, and it had tall windows which provided excellent light for his worktable. The view wasn't bad, either. There was another apartment building right across from his, but it was set lower, and allowed Stiles an amazing view of the sunset every night. And, as he'd recently realized, also afforded a pretty decent view into the apartments across and down from him.

 

He wasn't intentionally peeping, but sometimes he just zoned out or got stuck, and found his eyes aimlessly tracking whatever movement they could find in the building opposite, while he mindlessly tapped his pen on the comic page he was working on.

 

The inhabitants of the other block were generally unexciting, but they did offer the usual quirky entertainment that people-watching tended to provide. There was the little ol' lady with a flat-faced cat that liked to lounge in the windowsill as the sun rose, its beams hitting the cat for a few glorious morning hours before moving across the sky. When not sunbathing, the cat liked to judge Stiles, staring him down until he got back to work. Proved decent enough as a procrastination deterrent sometimes.

 

Then there was the family of an unknown number below it, who seemed to always be full of kids, and Stiles never really figured out how many of them actually lived there. A few other apartment windows were just permanently guarded from prying eyes with dark curtains or enormous houseplants, others were so full of knick-knacks or clutter that it scarcely allowed access to the window. Stiles hoped those people aired out their homes from the other side, because most of those windows never opened.

 

And then there was the guy on the top floor in the middle, directly across from Stiles but about a floor and a half down. What Stiles could see of his apartment was clean and uncluttered, almost obsessively neat. The guy living there obviously worked from home like Stiles did, because the corner of his desk was visible, and every time he was working, Stiles could enjoy the sight of his left arm, and occasionally his face when he stretched or rummaged for papers in his drawers.

 

It was weirdly soothing to watch someone else doing the same as Stiles, though he was fairly sure that the neat guy was not an artist. He seemed to spend most of his time either on his laptop or his phone, occasionally getting up to pace and gesticulate when someone on the other end of the line was obviously being difficult. Stiles decided it wasn't peeping when he wasn't doing it deliberately, and allowed himself to sometimes just watch the guy move around.

 

He worked insane hours, and sometimes Stiles wondered if he even slept. But he had to find time to work out, because the one time he passed the window shirtless to pick up the phone, Stiles got enough of a view to be in no doubt that this guy was taking care of himself. _Wow._ This was about the time that Stiles' lower half reminded him thoroughly that he was definitely bisexual, no matter how little he usually looked at guys. Stiles made sure to finish at least three more pages that day as punishment for being creepy.

 

But it was utterly and completely unintentional when Stiles got his next eyeful. Neat Guy had been pacing a lot that morning, at one point looking like he was about to throw the phone across the room, and Stiles could sympathize. No one should have to deal with that many assholes in one day. Eventually, though, Neat Guy put down the phone deliberately gently on the corner of the desk, as if forcing himself not to slam it to the floor and stomp on it, stripped off his t-shirt with angry movements and left the room. Stiles assumed he went to drown himself in the shower or scream into a pillow like Stiles did on days like that, and then got back to work. He had at least two more pages to do before dinner.

 

About half an hour later, movement in Neat Guy's apartment caught Stiles' eye, and he looked up only to almost snap his pen in half. Because Neat Guy was naked. And angry. And _hard_. Evidently he'd stopped in the middle of some classic stress relief to pick up the phone. Stiles would have let it go to voicemail, but who knew what Neat Guy had riding on his job? Enough, apparently, that he didn't even stop to put some boxers on or something before picking up the phone and immediately yelling into it again.

 

From this angle Stiles could see everything but the guy's feet, and it was strangely hypnotizing how his cock bobbed as he paced and argued. Eyes glued to the impressive boner, Stiles almost missed the guy actually throwing the phone against the wall so hard it shattered, and then immediately closing his fist around his cock and jerking himself off in the angriest way Stiles had ever seen, right there in the middle of the room. It was only about a minute before the guy came, catching the come in his palm and just holding it there for a while as he caught his breath, his amazing abs heaving with every harsh breath. Eventually, though, Neat Guy looked down at himself, at the come in his hand and his now flaccid, but still angry-red cock, heaved a huge sigh and dragged himself out of the room. Presumably to shower.

 

Stiles was left slack-jawed and staring, hard as a rock and mortified. Not mortified enough to stop himself from wobbling to his own shower and jerking himself to a shuddering climax, but certainly enough to consider moving his desk to a more poorly lighted position to avoid more of these situations in the future.

 

He didn't move his desk. But he did determinedly keep his eyes either on his work or the judgy cat for the next week at least.

 

Upon meeting his next deadline, he celebrated by going to the local coffee shop for some delicious pastry and coffee-like substance with more sugar than ground beans in it. He wasn't the only one with that idea, though. He had to stand in line for a while, and by the time he was finally handed his delicious treats, he turned around to find the place was pretty much packed. The only open seat was by a small table in the corner, the other chair occupied by...

 

Angry jerk-off guy.

 

Stiles spent a long, disbelieving moment trying to convince himself the world couldn't possibly be that cruel, but then people started trying to ease around him, and okay, Stiles was no stranger to mortification, he could deal with the shame in exchange for a place to put down his goddamn pastry. So he took the few strides to that last coveted chair, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

 

“This seat taken?”

 

Angry jerk-off guy looked up with no sign of recognition on his face, and simply shook his head before going back to his reading. Stiles sat down with a silent sigh of relief that the guy obviously had no idea who he was, and cast a few glances at whatever he was reading. It was just a few sheets of paper stapled together, but whatever it was, it made the guy frown harder and harder the longer his eyes darted across the pages, and he finally slapped it down on the corner of the table with a frustrated huff.

 

“Bad news?” Stiles asked, because staying silent was just not in his nature, and the guy side-eyed him. “Sorry, I'm a talker.”

 

“It's okay,” the guy said finally, after a moment of staring, like he was deciding whether Stiles was another threat to his sanity, and apparently deciding against it. “Not bad news, no. Not really. Just... work.”

 

“That kinda work is gonna give you wrinkles before thirty, dude.”

 

The guy snorted. “I'm thirty three.”

 

That was in fact pretty close to Stiles' own guess, but experience had taught him that it was always better to shave off a few years, especially if you were aiming to get on someone's good side. And Stiles really wanted to get on this guy's good side, even more so when he flashed a tiny smile, revealing adorable bunny teeth and making Stiles feel even worse for accidentally using him for spank bank material. Sure, it had been bad enough when it was just a random hottie, but the guy was adorable, oh god.

 

“Then thank your lucky stars or good genes you're not a raisin yet.”

 

“Genes, right,” the guy huffed. “If only. I don't exercise and eat kale for fun.” He gave Stiles a look, and Stiles wondered for a moment if he'd suddenly remembered what fun actually was. “I'm Derek,” was what he said eventually, holding out his hand for a shake. The same damn hand he'd caught his jizz with the other day, and Stiles had to swallow hard before taking it.

 

“Stiles. We're kinda neighbors,” he blurted and immediately hated himself. Why, oh why, did he have to say that.

 

“Oh? I don't remember seeing you around before. And I'm pretty sure I would have remembered,” Derek said, all low and soft, and Stiles was torn between relief that he was unfamiliar, and delighted surprise that Derek was apparently _flirting_ , oh god.

 

Stiles might still be feeling shitty over his accidental voyeurism, but he wasn't about to turn down flirting from the hottest guy he'd ever met.

 

“Yeah, I uh... I live in the building across from yours.” He forced his lips shut after that, to avoid saying too much, and to his luck Derek didn't seem to notice.

 

It only got better from there. They chatted for over an hour about this and that, and it was probably the best and most comfortable flirting session Stiles had ever had with anyone, which was super ironic, considering.

 

It kept being comfortable. It was comfortable through another coffee date, a meet-up for pizza, a spontaneous trip to the movies and two walks in the park. It was comfortable during texting and calling, and it was really surprisingly comfortable in Derek's neat apartment, making out on his couch and having fun times in his bed. It was comfortable right up until the moment Derek asked if he could come up to Stiles' place.

 

“Uhhh, no, better not,” Stiles said awkwardly, pulling Derek's hand to subtly steer him to the other side of the street to his own building.

 

“But it's right here,” Derek pointed out, and tugged Stiles' hand so he had to stop walking. “What's wrong? You got any dirty secrets?” Derek asked with an adorable waggle of eyebrows, and oh god, Stiles was so fucking into it, and he really really did not want Derek to hate him. Over the last couple of weeks Derek had become so much more than a hot neighbor. He was a wonderful, amazing person, and Stiles just wanted to desperately cling to him.

 

“Nah, it's just really messy, and I know how you like things neat.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, in my living space. I don't care that you're messy in your own home.”

 

“I haven't done laundry in like two weeks! The whole place probably stinks!” Stiles argued, casting around for excuses, but Derek was already pulling him towards the building.

 

“We'll open a window. Come on, I wanna see your art. You said you'd show me one day.”

 

Stiles had meant one day in the very, _very_ distant future, but Derek was looking at him so softly and excited, and fuck it, Stiles was just weak, okay? He prayed to some higher power that Derek wouldn't put the pieces together, and let himself be pulled into the elevator.

 

No higher powers heard him, of course, because despite his best efforts to keep Derek distracted with his comic pages and at least two attempts at redirecting him to the couch or bed for more intimate pursuits, Derek inevitably made it to the window at Stiles' work table.

 

“So, this is where you work?”

 

“Yeah, good lighting, you know. Hey, you should see my balcony too, it's on the other side-”

 

“You can see my apartment from here.”

 

Stiles stopped dead, because that was it. That was the end. Fuck.

 

“Uhm. Yeah.”

 

Derek gazed calmly through the window. “You can see like half my living room from here. Guess that explains how you saw me and I never saw you.”

 

“Hah, right, yeah,” Stiles said awkwardly, and fuck his life, apparently his weird behavior was the thing that finally alerted Derek to the fact that something was up, because he turned around to give Stiles a suspicious look.

 

“Why are you so nervous? I told you, I don't mind the mess.”

 

There was a glorious moment where Stiles thought he might be able to salvage the situation, but then Derek's eyes widened as the penny obviously dropped.

 

“You've... been watching me,” Derek said, and his voice was so cautious. Stiles wanted to crawl under a fucking rock.

 

“I'm... _so_ sorry, Derek, I swear, I didn't mean to, and it was just the one time, and I would totally have moved my work table somewhere else if there was any kind of decent light anywhere else in the apartment, but there isn't so I didn't, but I literally glued my eyes to the grumpy cat two floors down instead, and don't worry, it's been very diligent in judging me, just in case I wasn't already feeling like scum of the Earth, which I am, Derek, I swear, I didn't mean to, you were just there and I wasn't ready to see you in all your glorious nakedness, I was totally taken by surprise, and I should have just averted my fucking eyes, I know, I'm so sorry-”

 

“Stiles calm down.”

 

It was easier said than done, but Derek's hands closed gently around Stiles' biceps, and the warmth in them made him slump down a little and take a breath. “I swear I didn't mean to be a creep,” Stiles murmured, eyes on the floor. “I like you a lot, and not just because you're ridiculously hot and still want me for some reason.”

 

There was a tiny huff of a laugh, and Stiles finally dared to look up.

 

“Stiles, it's okay. As long as you're not a stalker with binoculars or something, it's not an issue. So you saw me naked one time, big deal. You've seen me naked since then.”

 

“Technically you were naked and also jerking off, so it kinda feels like a big deal,” Stiles muttered, and Derek blinked before clearing his throat.

  
“I was jerking off?”

 

Stiles nodded. “Probably the angriest jerk-off session I've ever seen, too. I'm glad you're not generally that angry during sex.”

 

“That was... oh. Oh, right. That was when... ah.” Derek's face was definitely going a little red, and Stiles felt his stomach drop all over again. “Well, that's... awkward. But it's not your fault, though. I should have closed the curtains,” Derek said firmly, giving Stiles' shoulders a little shake.

 

“And I should have used my fucking eyelids for their actual purpose, Derek.”

 

There was a heavy pause, but then Derek smiled crookedly, and Stiles felt like he could breathe again. “You could always make it up to me,” Derek said, voice distinctly heated, and forget breathing, who needed it, anyway.

 

“Anything,” Stiles breathed, meaning it with his entire soul.

 

“Then why don't you get naked. I'll just sit here in your chair and... watch.”

 

“Wait... you want a strip tease? Because I gotta tell you, I'm not the most graceful person on the planet. In fact, I'm probably the most UNgraceful-”

 

“Stiles, get naked, get on your bed, and jerk off for me.”

 

It took a moment for Stiles to catch his dropping jaw. “Alright. Fair's fair. At least you're not making me do it in your apartment. Anyone can see in there.”

 

“Maybe I don't wanna share you,” Derek said, and calmly sat down in Stiles' work chair, eyes hot on him before he'd even dropped a stitch of clothing. Stiles had to swallow quite a big lump in his throat, but then it was game on.

 

As it turned out, Derek was far more of a voyeur that Stiles ever was. And maybe Stiles found out he was a little bit more of an exhibitionist than he'd thought.

 

Or maybe it was all a matter of having the right audience.

 

End.

 

 

 


End file.
